


More or Less (All You Thought It Would Be)

by Miaou Jones (miaoujones)



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Friendship, Love, M/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-02
Updated: 2011-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-14 08:12:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaoujones/pseuds/Miaou%20Jones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which things are just as Mikado imagined they'd be, and unexpected at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More or Less (All You Thought It Would Be)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the [Durarara!! Kink Meme](http://drrrkink.livejournal.com).

Ikebukuro is everything Mikado imagined it would be, and more.

It's also, somehow, not what he expected. Not Ikebukuro itself but his place in it. He isn't entirely sure how he fits. He isn't entirely sure how he _wants_ to fit, and he thought he'd start to figure that out once he got here. It's part of why he came, after all. But everything is getting more complicated and confusing as he goes on, not less so. It's exciting, sometimes. And then other times—sometimes he wishes there was someone he could talk to. Really talk to, about everything. Someone like Masaomi. Although not Masaomi himself, of course, and not Sonohara, either, because he kind of _does_ know his place with them, and he won't do anything to jeopardize that.

Speak of the devil: Masaomi is passing by on the other side of the street. Mikado calls his name and waves, but Masaomi must not see him because he keeps going. Something about him is off; even as he's thinking that, Mikado realizes Masaomi's smile is missing. And just before his friend pulls his hood up, Mikado thinks the skin around his eye looks darkened—a bruise. Or maybe only a shadow.

Mikado jumps down off the wall he's been sitting on and calls out a "See you later!" to Erika and Walker, heedless of whether or not they reply, as he hurries in the direction Masaomi went.

If he ran, he could probably catch up. But for some reason, Mikado doesn't run.

As he trails Masaomi, he feels like he must be conspicuous and steels himself for shouted accusations of stalking. But no one is looking at him twice and Masaomi isn't acting like he knows he's being followed, so with butterfly wings of thrill and foolishness flapping against each other in his belly, Mikado keeps going, down street after street, 'round one corner after another.

Then Masaomi's feet carry him into a city park. Mikado hesitates. There won't be nearly as many buffers, human and otherwise, in there. Maybe he could call on the Dollars to help him track Masaomi—but no, he can do this himself. Besides, even though Masaomi hasn't given anything away and for reasons Mikado can't explain, he kind of has a feeling Masaomi might actually know Mikado is following him.

Mikado enters the park in time to see which path Masaomi has taken. The path curves sharply and Masaomi disappears from sight momentarily. When Mikado rounds the bend, there's no one on the path ahead of him. A structure, boarded up and likely abandoned, stands some distance off to the left. Either Masaomi vanished into thin air or he went in there.

A couple of the boards are loose. Mikado says Masaomi's name as he pushes one aside. There's just enough light that he can make out Masaomi's shape. Masaomi quarter-turns his head at the sound of Mikado's voice but he doesn't turn around.

He doesn't tell Mikado to leave, though, so Mikado comes in, letting the board fall back into place behind him. Stray, persistent sunbeams filter through cracks in the exterior and scatter themselves inside, but to little effect, and Mikado feels his way along the wall instead of waiting for his eyes to adjust.

When he gets to Masaomi, Mikado stops without touching him.

The silence as they stand there is not uncomfortable. It's almost, in a weird way, comfortable. Not quite, but bordering on it. Although there's tension radiating off of Masaomi, Mikado can feel that it's not directed at him, and it calls him back to when they were kids, always over each other's houses. "Do you remember when we were little?" he says softly. "You'd have those nightmares sometimes."

Mikado doesn't know why he said it. It came to mind and rolled off his tongue unbidden. He doesn't know whether he should apologize or try to go somewhere with it now.

Before he can speak again, before he has to, Masaomi says, "You used to climb into my bed."

Mikado nods in the dark, smiling not so much at the memories themselves as at the sharing of them now. "You'd always be facing the wall. You'd never turn around when I'd get in."

"You'd start rubbing my back," Masaomi says, face to the wall.

Mikado reaches out. Only a touch at first. When Masaomi doesn't flinch, Mikado begins stroking his back.

They stay like that for some time, listening to each other breathing, Masaomi's tension easing.

"When you were ready," Mikado says, softly, unhurriedly, "you'd turn around."

Masaomi does.

"You'd put your arms around me," Masaomi says. Their eyes, adjusted to the dark now, find each other as best they can.

"We'd put our arms around each other," Mikado modifies, moving forward to slip his arms around Masaomi; Masaomi's come around him, too.

"You'd kiss my forehead," Masaomi says, and Mikado smiles at this memory, one not only of Masaomi, but also of his mother from when he was very small, which must be where he'd gotten the idea.

He leans up now and presses his lips to Masaomi's brow, tilted to meet him, and then rests his forehead against Masaomi's. He doesn't remember doing this when they were children, but now it feels right. Mikado could stay like this, just stay like this...

Then—a shift, a slide—and Masaomi's mouth is on Mikado's.

Their lips move together, over and against each other, and then Masaomi pulls back just enough to say, "Your lips are really dry."

Even though Mikado can hear something like a smile in Masaomi's voice, he feels himself flush, chagrin overlapping the heat already painting his skin. "Sorry," he says, darting his tongue out to moisten his lips.

"Let me help," Masaomi murmurs. He licks Mikado's lips, flicking the tip of his tongue against Mikado's where they meet; slipping inside Mikado's gasp, into his mouth, flicking and licking everywhere.

As they kiss and kiss, Mikado becomes aware of how hard he is, and how he doesn't want to accidentally brush his erection against Masaomi, how desperately he doesn't want to ruin this moment or do anything to end it. He shifts to open some space between them, reaches down to adjust himself—

And Masaomi's hand brushes his. He pushes Mikado's hand aside, drags down his zip, reaches inside. Mikado means to protest, but oh, oh~, it feels so _good_.

So he reaches for Masaomi, too. When he undoes Masaomi's zip, Masaomi jerks against him, and Mikado smiles down to his toes.

Mikado has never touched another boy's cock and he wants to look down, to see Masaomi's cock in his hand, but it's too dark to see properly, so Mikado just keeps kissing Masaomi and touching him. And even though it's so dark that it makes no difference, he closes his eyes as Masaomi keeps kissing him and touching him, too.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, their hands moving on each other's cocks in asynchronous but nonetheless perfect rhythms, and when Masaomi's mouth comes off to suck air instead of Mikado's tongue, Mikado keeps kissing Masaomi, his jaw, his throat. They keep rubbing and stroking, and then Masaomi does this twist move on Mikado's cock, and Mikado likes it so much that he does it back to Masaomi, and he hears the thud of Masaomi's head hitting the wall, but he doesn't think about that because he feels Masaomi's come spurt over his hand at the same time. And it gives Mikado such a thrill, Masaomi's come in his hand, that it only takes the length of the thrill to shiver hot and hard from Mikado's brain down to his cock before Mikado spills out over himself and Masaomi, too.

They breathe, standing and holding onto each other, Mikado's hand still fisting the back of Masaomi's hoodie.

Then Masaomi kisses him again and time starts moving once more.

They reemerge into daylight and start down the path, continuing on instead of going back the way they've come. Mikado doesn't realize he's smiling until Masaomi reaches over and gives him a playful tweak without breaking stride. "Ah, Mikado~ am I really so amazing a lover to have put a permanent smile on your face?"

The bruise—for it definitely is one—is darkening around Masaomi's eye, but he doesn't try to hide it, nor does he say anything about it. So Mikado doesn't say anything about it, either. It's enough, for now, that Masaomi is letting him see it.

"I was only thinking," Mikado lets his smile linger another moment, "of how happy I am I moved here."

Eyelashes fluttering with the downsweep of his nod, a study in sagacity, Masaomi beams. "Of course you are!"

Of course.


End file.
